Random Short Stories/Poems

My Best Friend

Do you ever speak, but realize nobody's listening? I was like that. 

Every time I would try to speak my mind I was ignored. 

My classmates, my peers, my friends, my family. Even my teachers.

I never stopped, though. Even when it seemed I was being completely ignored.

One day, someone actually responded.

The teacher asked a question, and because I knew he wouldn't hear me, I muttered a sarcastic response under my breath. 

"You know, the answer is pretty easy, actually." An unfamiliar boy next to me responded. "You just have to remember the laws of exponents." 

I stared at him with wide eyes as he explained how to get the answer. "Who are you? Where did you come from?"

"Well, when two people love each other," he joked, "very very much..." We both laughed.

Over the course of the next few days, I got to know him pretty well. He listened to me, he responded. He taught me things I'd never known. Most of all, he was always there for me when I was lonely, and he quickly became the best friend I'd ever had.

"Who the heck are you talking to?" Somebody asked me one day.

"My best friend." I smile.

"Hey, don't listen to it," my best friend says, "It isn't real." I find it hard to believe, but before I can question it, he reassures me. "If it was real, it wouldn't be talking to you right now."

That logic definitely adds up, so I ignore it. Soon more and more of them started to talk to me. They asked what was wrong, who I was talking to. I didn't answer any of them.

"They're starting to get really, really annoying." I confide in my best friend.

He shakes his head. "They tend to do so, but don't worry. There's an easy way to shut them up."

"What is it? I'll try anything." He explained to me that these things have a weakness when you shove a sharp object, such as a knife or glass, into them. "Seems simple enough!"

The next time one of them tried to talk to me, I took a knife out of my pocket and shoved it into its chest.

They took me away from my school and took me away from my home. 

Where I am now, I still hear them. They ask me how I'm doing, how I'm feeling, if I'm hungry. It's really annoying. But I can't find anything sharp enough to stop them. A prisoner to these beings, I guess I'm going to die here.

At least I still have my best friend.